


To The Sky

by boxparade



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Coming Out, Death, Hospitals, Illnesses, M/M, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:16:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxparade/pseuds/boxparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which no one really knows what to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Sky

It’s the third time this month that Brendon’s family visits him, but this time it’s different. It’s different because this is the last time. Spencer doesn’t know what to think, really, but Brendon tells him to stay, and he holds on to his hand, and so Spencer stays.

There are questions. There are always questions, when this kind of thing happens, but there are more because of the circumstances. Because according to Brendon’s parents, he doesn’t have enough time left to redeem himself in the eyes of God, so he can be let into the kingdom of heaven.

Spencer doesn’t say anything, like how he knows Brendon stopped believing in God and heaven right around the same time the doctors told him about the leukemia. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Brendon. They just sit and stare, holding hands until their fingers turn stark white, and watch as Brendon’s parents walk out of his life.

Spencer doesn’t understand this. He doesn’t understand any of this. He hates Brendon’s parents. He hates their religion. He hates being sick, and he hates Brendon being sick, and he hates dying.

He thinks it’s worse for Brendon, though. Because yeah, Spencer’s dying, but he’s got his family. They visit him almost every day. They love him. They’re going to be there until the bitter end, no matter how much Spencer wishes they didn’t have to see this.

But Brendon’s parents—they’re different. They don’t understand. And they don’t see anything wrong with walking away from their youngest son, who is _dying,_ because they love their religion more than him.

Spencer thinks, if he had any say about all this heaven nonsense, he’d send Brendon’s parents down to the pits of hell. For this, he would condemn them. And then he would open the gates—open them wide—for one scared, sad kid with chocolate-brown eyes that have yet to see the world. He’d make damn sure.

 

 

He tries not to look at his mother’s eyes—it’s her eyes that’ll hurt him the most. She’s always cared too much, always been so passionate about what and who she loves, and Brendon hates to do this to her. He hates to see the betrayal there, like Brendon’s doing this _to_ her.

He tries to explain—he’s young, okay? He’s too fucking young, and he doesn’t want to die, and he’d never even been kissed until Spencer came along with a prognosis as shitty as his and an open set of arms. And he’s never really believed all that craziness about God hating the gays.

He just doesn’t want to die without doing something for himself, just once. He’s doing this for himself, not to spite his parents. Spencer understands him, and he has the sweetest smile, and he doesn’t look half as bad without hair as Brendon does.

His father’s eyes have turned to stone, though, and he walks out without saying a word, his lips pressed together in a tight, white line. Brendon squeezes Spencer’s hand a little harder, and keeps him pressed close to his side. He knows he’s never going to see his father again.

His mother lasts a bit longer, and she’s crying, but she doesn’t want to be left behind, and her religion means so much to her, and Brendon hates this. He hates all of it. But she darts forward, kisses him shakily on the forehead, and then follows his father out.

Brendon takes a deep breath—in, out—and tries to remember just the way his mother smells. He knows he won’t be able to hold on to that forever, but considering his forever is a damn lot shorter than most people’s, he’s hopeful.

Brendon turns to hide his face against Spencer’s neck, and shivers when Spencer’s fingers curl around the back of his head, over the uneven tufts of hair that haven’t quite fallen out yet. He stays there and just breathes, their hands still twined together. At least he knows he’ll be able to remember the exact way that Spencer smells.

Because Spencer isn’t leaving. Spencer isn’t going anywhere until Brendon does, and when he does, he knows—the kind of knowing that he used to feel about God—he knows that Spencer will go with him. They’ll keep on holding hands until the darkness wraps around them, and then they’ll face their reckoning together, bearing their souls to the world—to the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt in my class: Write a short scene that deals with death and dying from two different perspectives.
> 
> This is a drabble from what is, in my head, a much longer fic that may or may not be written in the future. It depends on whether or not I want to be known as that one writer that makes everyone on AO3 cry. We'll see.


End file.
